Memori
by trunksluver
Summary: How does a saiyan survive a carwreck?
1. The Hit

"Trunks!!!!!" Pan's screech coincided with the squeal of rubber on concrete.   
All of a sudden, Trunks felt something push him over, and a sharp bang to his temple created an end to his perceptions.   
"Oh kami, Trunks! Wake up, please!" She patted his cheek in an anguished attempt to rouse him, but all that succeeded was to get blood on her hand.   
"Oh miss! Is anyone hurt? OH KUSO! I hit someone!" A lady in a business suit came out of her car, her high heels clicking shallowly against the concrete. She pulled a tiny phone out of her purse and started dialing a number, while Pan sat with Trunks' bleeding head in her hands.   
"Hi, can I talk to Jillian, attorney at law?"  
Abruptly, Pan's tears stopped. Her eyes almost turned red, she was glaring so hard. "You just hit a guy, and you're calling a lawyer? He's not dead.. yet! Although I'm sure Bulma Briefs will be glad to sue you for neglecting to call the hospital!" Pan said this as calm as she could, although she wanted to strangle the lady.  
"Bulma? Briefs?" The lady immediately hung up on her attorney and started calling for an ambulance.  
"It's okay Trunks… everything will be fine… just hang on," Pan muttered soothingly, moving his hair away from his face over and over again.  
They'd just been going home from a nice day at the skating rink with a couple friends. Everyone else flew home, but Pan had begged Trunks to walk with her. It was only a short way, and she wanted to talk to him. He couldn't say no to the puppy eyes, so he walked with her… and ended up getting hit by a car.   
"Damn… it's all my fault." Pan's tears started up again as sirens started being heard.  
"Miss? Are you family?" A man said in the background of her thoughts.   
All…  
"Here we are at the scene of Trunks Briefs death…"   
My….  
"He's not dead yet! Get those cameras out of here!"   
Dad?  
"Pan! Pan, you've got to let him go. The doctors can't get him on a stretcher to get him to the hospital."  
Let him go?  
"You said he wasn't dead yet." She looked up at her dad, eyes begging.  
"Miss, his pulse is still amazingly steady. Please, just let go and we'll get him fixed up in a jiffy. You can even come with us, okay?" It was the same man from before. "Sir? You might want to get the lady who hit him. You'll need her phone number and address if you want to take her to court."  
"Thanks, I'll do that." Gohan said. "Which hospital are you taking him to?"  
"Orange…"  
"Thanks. Go on Pan, I'll be there in a while."  
"Okay Dad." Pan let her arms slip from around Trunks neck and stood up, watching anxiously as they put him on a porta-bed.   
"Come on, Ms. Pan, you can ride up front with me."  
"Alright…." Pan followed the young man obediently to the ambulance doors and to the hospital.  
An hour later…  
"Miss? Are you…"  
"Leave her alone Clarice, she hasn't left his side since he got here. The guy just got hit by a car right in front of her, give her a break, k?" It was the same guy who drove the ambulance..  
Trunks had stitches on his temple where he'd hit his head on a stone while he fell, but nothing else was wrong with him. The doctors had been amazed nothing had been broken, but when they questioned Pan, her only response was the car had only grazed him.   
  



	2. The Hospital

"Pan?" A hand threaded through inky hair, rubbing her scalp soothingly. "Pan... wake up." She groaned and rubbed her face on the textured bed cover. She didn't want to wake up... didn't want to remember.... TRUNKS!   
  
"Trunks?" Her head shot up, and Trunks' hand dropped. "You're awake!" she jumped up from the chair and hugged him as far around his broad chest as her arms could go.   
  
"Of course I'm awake... I only dozed off on that park bench for a couple.. Wait a minute. Where are we?" Trunks' eyebrows grew together in confusion and he looked around the room. "It looks like a hospital..."   
  
"It IS a hospital Trunks...Don't you remember?" Pan's face mirrored his confusion. "You were hit by that bitchy blonde..." His eyes told her the truth; He couldn't remember. "Oh god, I gotta get a doctor!"   
  
Pan tried to move off of Trunks, but he held her to his chest. "You're fine where you're at..." He gave her a smile that sent a shot of heat through her bloodstream, "But if you have to..." he reached behind his shoulder and pressed a red call-button.  
  
Only one guy can look so sexy in a hospital gown... Pan shook her head to clear her thoughts. Come on girl, outta the gutter. She tried to push herself out of the compromising position she put herself in, but Trunks wrapped his arms around her back.   
  
"What are you doing?" She asked, avoiding his eyes. If she looked up, she'd be lost in the urge to kiss...   
  
"I'm holding my wife, of course-"   
  
"WIFE????" Gohan looked at Trunks in horror, while Pan looked like a deer caught in a car's headlights.   
  
The doctor was a tornado of a white coats as he rushed Pan and Gohan out of the room and slammed the door.   
  
"Humor him." The first words out of the guy's mouth made Gohan's eyes pop even wider.   
  
"HUMOR HIM???? He just claimed to be married to my daughter! My eighteen year old-" The saiyan's tirade was cut off by Pan.   
  
"Uh, doc, why did he say that?" Pan asked, obviously over her shock. "What's wrong with him? Why doesn't he remember..."  
  
The doctor smiled at her in that way that doctors do when someone asks an obviously stupid medical question. "He has an interesting case of amnesia... everything he remembers is based on the last thought he had before the blow that caused him to forget in the first place."   
  
"Ok, so he was THINKING of marrying my eighteen year old daughter! That's ENOUGH REASON to kill him...." Gohan was practically growling.   
  
The doctor sighed and mumbled something like, "Why do I even try...." Then he returned his gaze to the seething father. "Mr. Son, if Trunks is to EVER get his memory back, he must be humored in EVERYTHING. If he says she's his wife, then for the time being, she must ACT like it."  
  
Pan noticed that her usually rational father was very irrational at the moment, so she decided to cut the conversation off and open the door. Besides, she thought, it might be a little fun to be married to the hottest guy on the planet.... And she revealed Trunks with his hospital gown around his ankles.   
  
"KAMI!" She quickly shut the door again. Especially with a veiw like that every day...   
  
"Pan, I really don't want to put you in this situation.. your high school graduation is coming up.. your already going to a very nice, EXPENSIVE college..."   
  
She suddenly had the greatest urge to bang her head against the hardwood door until SHE had amnesia. "Dad, I want to WAIT a few years before I started that 'expensive' college. I've been working really hard since the 5th grade... I'm valedictorian for god's sake!"  
  
"That doesn't mean you get to slack off.. education is very important..."  
  
All she'd worried about was her education.. all through life. She'd never even had time to figure out what she was good at, she just had to LEARN. Pan wasn't even sure what she wanted to do for a job, had never had time to think about it, and it was really late to not know. "Let's NOT talk about this now, OK?" She knocked on the door, ignoring her dad's attempt to continue the conversation. "Trunks? Are you decent?"  
  
"I'd LIKE to get in my own damn clothes!" Came back at her through the door way. "And I'm not leaving here in my boxers either!" Pan looked at the doctor questioninly.  
  
"Uh... lemme go check with the nurse." The doctor disappeared, half-running to the desk. He disappeared for a second, then came back, dragging something. When he came closer, Pan could see the stressed look on his face as he worked to drag Trunks' sword across the tiled hall, the clothes wrapped around the handle in an attempt to creat more friction between his hands and the heavey object. Pan forced herself not to grin.   
  
"Here, let me get that for you." She walked up and plucked it out of his hands with little effort.   
  
"How...huh..." he sat there, panting on the tiles for a minute, staring at the teenager that was almost a foot shorter then himself, hefting an object that weighed at least twice his weight.   
  
Pan smiled, now that her back was turned and the human couldn't see it, and knocked on the door. "Trunks?"  
  
"I don't want to talk to you unless you have CLOTHES!"  
  
Oh, THATS good. "I do have clothes. And your sword- WHOA!" Trunks pulled her in even before she could finish the sentance.   
  
"YES! I love this lady!" Trunks didn't even look at her, just pulled the weighted clothing and sword from her grasp and began pulling his clothes off. Pan's mouth went dry at the veiw of muscles she got before she recovered the decency to blush and turn around. "Uh, I'll just go now..."  
  
Trunks looked up and noticed her positon. He smirked and pulled his pants on before answering. "No, stay... I wanted to talk to you. What am I doing in the hospital with this nasty bruise on my head?"   
  
Pan turned around and glanced at his head. "You took the bandage off!" she tried to sound as disapproving as possible.  
  
Trunks gave her a sheepish grin and turned both his palms up in his version of a shrug. "They itched, and besides, it's just a bruise..."   
  
Pan wanted to remind him that originally it was a cut, and his saiyan healing had merely changed it, but she couldn't. If he didn't even know he was saiyan... "Alright."  
  
Trunks could tell Pan was distracted about something. "Hey, you okay?"   
  
Pan wanted to laugh. HE was just hit by a car and he's asking HER if she's ok... it was just too much. A tear trailed down her cheek as the reality of his mortality hit her.   
  
The fall of quicksilver on her cheek caught Trunks' eye and brought him to her side. He cupped her face in his warm hand and wiped the tear away with his thumb. "I'm sorry, Pan-chan, I didn't mean to make you cry..." He hugged her against him, letting her cry on his shirt. His hand rubbed soothingly in her hair and up and down her spine, letting her put her thoughts back together.   
  
Pan pushed away from him and wiped off the tears that hadn't quite made it. "I'm okay Trunks, really...-"  
  
"WHERES TRUNKS????" The question-like command rattled through the hospital halls.  



	3. Screw the Suprise

"Uh... Mrs. Briefs, if you would just let me warn him... ms... ACK!" The nurses voice was cut off by Vegeta, who sent her a glance tat would have silenced a bleating lamb.   
  
"MY BABY!!!!" Bulma rushed in and hugged her son. It was ridiculous to call him a baby, especially when she looked so tiny compared to him, even in full health. "Oh, I was so frantic with worry... you have no right to do that to a mother..."  
  
Trunks sent Pan a panicky (no pun intended) look. She merely shrugged and moved out of the doorway.   
  
"So you surivived." Vegeta said, brushing off peices of the abused door from his shoulders.   
  
Trunks stared at his dad. "Survived what? What's going on...?"  
  
"Oh, they told us everything over the phone... we have to-" Vegeta covered up Bulma's mouth before she could say anything that might jeopardize their son's health.   
  
"We just heard you bumped your head is all...." He covered for her gently. Suddenly he jerked his hand away from his wife. "WOMAN! Don't you know better then to bite a guy???"   
  
Bulma glared back at him. "I was starting to suffocate!"   
  
"Mom! Dad! Stop arguing and tell me whats going on!" The parents were both so suprised at their usually mild mannered son's outburst that they were speechless. They both looked around for another subject.  
  
"Ah, Pan.." Bulma almost sighed in releif. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Why wouldn't my wife come and check on me?" Trunks eyebrows drew together in dark consentration.   
  
"Uh... wife?" Bulma looked at Pan. She knew, of course, that the girl had a crush on Trunks, but she didn't seem the type to take advantage of any man's vunerability...   
  
Pan wanted to claw Trunks' eyes out when she saw the thoughts racing through Bulma's mind. Of course everyone would think it was her fault.. no one would blame the precious Capsule Corp. president... she thought bitterly. Then she looked at Trunks, who looked a little more normal in his favorite clothes, but still so cute. The consternation on his face made her forgive all.  
  
But she still didn't know how to answer Bulma. She shrugged subtly from her leaning position. "Ready to go home?"   
  
"Definetly," Trunks glared at the hospital one last time before opening the door.   
  
The entire gang was out in the hall, waiting. Many of them hugged him, except for the aloof Piccolo, and Gohan, who stood back and glared at the muscled arm around his daughters waist.   
  
Author's Note: Yes, I realize that Trunks is saiyan, and totally strong. He probably would have gone THROUGH the freaking car rather then be pushed over by it. And hitting his head on a rock probably would have even hurt him normally. But I decided that saiyan's must be concious to be able to use their strength, and if he was caught off his guard (say, he was thinking about marrying a certain person) then he'd be less likely to be able to protect himself. Make sense? Well, that's a basic explanation for those who didn't understand about the car thing. Later, Kat. 


	4. We have a house???

"Uh, Trunks? What are you doing??" Pan had against the air cars wall, as far away from Trunks as possible. It still wasn't quite far enough; His searching hand still brushed against her.  
  
Trunks' eyes stayed locked on the road, but his eyebrows drew together in concentration. "Would you come here already?" His arm moved around wildly.   
  
"No!" Just then his hand grabbed hold of her foot, and he dragged her across the seat until his other hand could get around her waist. By then he was using his knees to steer precariously. He didn't even have to look at her. "Trunks! Leggo!"   
  
Pan tried to squirm out of his arms, but she didn't try all that hard. If she hit the controls, they'd end up in another accident. He got her on his lap with only a little effort. She leaned over as if to whisper in his ear. Trunks shifted her a little closer, until..."Trunks... did I mention LETTING ME GO????"  
  
"OW!" He practically threw her back in the passenger seat. He rubbed his ear. "What was that for?"   
  
Pan rubbed her back. Damn door handles... "I warned you."   
  
That was just the beginning.  
  
"Trunks, where's my room?" Pan said, looking into the bedroom Trunks had shown her into.   
  
The house was brand new, barely off the market. And Trunks had insisted it was 'theirs'. He didn't understand WHY the 'for sale' sign was on the front lawn, he just wanted it down. And he didn't understand why the house was empty, he just shrugged it off and called his furniture store for more.   
  
Pan would probably laugh at these problems at some future date, but for now, all she wanted to do was get a hot bath and sleep. The negotiations with the realtor did NOT go well... And it didn't help that she had to explain to Trunks where she went. What was she supposed to say? "Trunks, I just came back from buying the house you insist we've lived in for years from some sleasy bald guy who hit on me?" That probably wouldn't be smart, considering the posessive gleam in Trunks eyes... No one got between a saiyan and his mate.   
  
And now this. "Trunks, I want a bath and some sleep, so stop clowning around." There was no way this overwhelmingly masculine room was hers. For one thing, there were too many blues, and not enough reds...  
  
Trunks gave her THAT look... the one he did when he didn't understand why she was saying or doing something. It was an expression she was coming to know well. "What do you mean, Pan? This is our room..."   
  
"Eh..." Oh cripes, how to get around this? She might think Trunks was attractive, but she DEFINETLY wasn't ready to take this turn in their relationship. "Uh... I think I changed my mind. Excuse me."   
  
Pan started to move down the long set of spiral stairs, but Trunks grabbed her arm, nearly wrenching it out of the socket. "Where are you going? You were just gone!"   
  
Pan wanted to stifle a groan. Trunks' possessivness was becoming annoying. Testily she peeled his fingers off her arm, crushing the urge to growl at him when his hand tightened into a fist. "I'm JUST going somewhere. If you follow me, I'll kill you."   
  
She started walking down the stairs again, but his voice stopped her. "I called your dad.. he said your stuff was at his house." The implications of that one statement startled her enough into catching her baggy pant leg on the intricate metal work on the rails she'd admired earlier.   
  
How could Trunks think she was leaving him when they had just started? Well, her mind took into account, to him they'd been married for a long while. "Maybe that's where our furniture went.. Mind having Dad bring my junk here?" She asked, a hopeful smile lighting her face.   
  
"Uh... sure." Whatever thoughts Trunks might have had, they were dazzled away by that smile. He had a silly grin fixed to his face while he unhooked her pant leg, and even as she went down the stairs and out the door. He didn't scowl till the heavey wood shut behind her.  
  
"Damn, I didn't find out where she was going." he muttered to himself before going into the kitchen for a sandwich.   
  
  
  
  



	5. Back to the Creek

Pan brushed her dripping wet hair back from her face and sighed.   
  
"There is definetly something flawed about a guy who can't let a girl take a simple shower." She wiggled her feet into the gravel bank of the cold spring. It's time to get back to nature anyways, she thought. The fibers of the string hammock nippeg at her back until she put a twoel over them. Her clothes clung to her still damp skin, just like her thoughts to her mind.   
  
Pan growled and rolled over angrily, trying to disperse the annoying memories that intruded on her day. The snarl was quickly turned into a suprised yelp as the force of her motion dumped Pan and the pink towel straight in the dirt.  
  
"Back to... the creak." Pan rolled onto her belley and pushed gerself into a standing position.  
  
*******  
  
"Kami!" Trunks let one more resigned battle cry loose as his kick completly destroyed what was once a sand filled punching bag.  
  
A piece of red nylon swung forlornly from the chain. "Like the shreds of my heart." Trunks' growl echoes solemnly, brokenly, though the Gravital Gym.   
  
Sweat had matted the purple hair to his tanned brow above glaringly blue eyes. The mats omphed in pain when he flung himself on them, arms helf wide. His angry breathing filled the pained silence.  
  
"I...am... the...Prince...Of....Saiyans..." Trunks said around his pants. Even distorted, it was a proud, angry statement. Was it also the source of his frustration?  
  
A bitter smile creased his lips, eyes locked on the ceiling where his imagination projected images. Who could blame her for running to a human after the demands he put on her? He was a moody, melancholy, proud person... No woman wanted HIM. They wanted his money, or his looks, or his brains. Never him. Never the man raised by the harsh, scarred man he called father. Vegeta knew how to raise a warrior, but he was unprepared to shape a human being.  
  
"She's just the same as the rest," he muttered, pounding on the floor in hope that maybe it would bang the words into his heart. "Just the same." His world, along with his thoughts, had come full circle.   
  
Trunks wanted to run somewhere, cry, scream. Destroying something wasn't enough to expell the raw ache the little boy inside him felt. He almost wanted to destroy SOMEONE.   
  
The adult in him delved within his training, knowing he needed to calm down. It was dngerous to go super saiyan when angry at a loved one. Vegeta taught his son that after nearly killing Bulma. Trunks concentrated on taking deep breathes. Then he let his mind wander once again.   
  
His eyes shot open before he even knew he'd closed them. "I'm a genius!" He shouted and raced out of the room.   
  
If he couldn't take his frustrations out on Pan, but at least Marron wouldn't mind a good spar. And he'd still be able to picture the feminine figure as the one person he was truly angry with.  
  
Marron sat on her family's porch and drank in the summer air. Who would willingly disturb a day like this?  
  
A hard thud and a loud "HEY! OW! WHAT THE...!" made her decide she'd thought too soon.   
  
"Trunks?" She called, running to the front lawn so she could see him up on his perch. His face poking from under his arm told her she'd regret laughing at him. It wasn't often you saw a grown man tangled so badly in vines that he nearly hung upside down, with a pair of jalopeno boxers nearly pulled out by a nearby tree branch.  
  
"I have..." he took a deep breath and tried to escape the branch. It only pulled more of his underwear out of his pants. "...a major wedgie."   
  
She couldn't stop herself. She doubled over, tears building in her eyes as she laughed and giggled and chuckled.   
  
Trunks would have laughed too if he wasn't in so much pain. While he untangled himself, he tried to continue a conversation with the girl paralyzed by laughter. "So, when did you get VINES on your house?"  
  
Marron's eyes were still glittering when she could find the breath to answer. "Dad planted them the year after we went out. Didn't want any more saiyan boys getting ideas."   
  
"Didn't stop Goten, did it?" Trunks teased. Suddenly, Marron looked like she was ready to cry. Trunks regretted being too busy to talk to his best friend lately.   
  
"Oh, Marron sweetheart, I'm sorry... don't cry." His soft, caring voice sounded ridiculous considering his positon. Marron sniffed once and giggled at him.   
  
"Um...Trunks?" Marron studied his underwear. "Want some help?"   
  
The grateful look he shot her sent her into another fit of laughter.   
  
******  
  
"Come on Marron, stop holding back." Trunks whispered menacingly in her ear. He'd completely disabled her, holding her arms across her back. If he pressed up a little more, her arm would pop up out of its socket.   
  
"Stop it, Trunks." She panted over her shoulder. Marron had one more ace up her sleeve, but she didn't want to use it. She shouldn't HAVE to use it, but then, she shouldn't have agreed to hand-to-hand combat either.   
  
He tensed, unknowingly shooting pain through her shoulder blade and collar bone. It was like he needed to gain control over himself, Marron thought through the haze of pain. She was awed and a little frightened at the change. In all the years she'd known him, even while they dated, Trunks was almosty always reserved and in control of himself.   
  
"You won't turn my into a wimp, Pan." Marron's fear grew. He'd lost himself so far, he didn't even know who he was fighting.   
  
Time to play that card.   
  
Marron reached her foot back inbetween Trunks' splayed legs and pivoted her waist. Her arms were wrenched away from his grip. Before he could recover from the suprise, she used the momentum to knee him in the groin and run.   
  
As soon as she felt she had some good distance, she turned around and pulled her energy into her raised hand in preperation for the destructo disk.   
  
When she saw the warrior laying on the ground clutching himself, she let it burn out while she laughed.   
  
"Trunks?" She crept up on him cautiously once she was done. "Haven't you been kicked in the nuts before?"   
  
He blinked at her. Sweat sheened his forehead and dripped into the dust.   
  
Her only answer was a heartfelt groan.   
  
"Come on Trunks." Marron grabbed his arm and tried to pick him up. "Geez boy, those desk jobs making you put on weight?" She joked.   
  
  



	6. Lonliness has always been a friend of mi...

"Although loneliness has always been a friend of mine..."  
  
A soft, sad beat drifted across Trunks' mind, clearing out all the troublesome thoughts that were lingering from his last encounter. Marron... geez, he'd nearly killed her. Trunks wandered around the bedroom she'd helped him into, looking. A fancy stereo system sat in the bookcase to the right of the bed. The room seemed to contain Marron's very essence. Pictures of family and friends were every where. The bookcase was full of fashion magazines; some were so old they were getting crusty. Trunks picked up one that seemed to be out of place. A sweep of his hand through the dust revealed "Martial Arts Monthly". He grinned. This wouldn't have been a normal choice of his friend, even with her history of fights. She'd probably bought it when the mood to understand Pan came upon her. Trunks frowned at the thought. What brought that on?  
  
"Trunks?" Marron poked her head around the door. She hesitated to intrude on his privacy while he was asleep, but since he was awake... "What chya got there?" She bounced into the room and looked around his arm at the magazine he held. "Oh, that." She lost some of her enthusiasm.   
  
Then she looked at his face, and some of his pain and longing translated to her. "Thinking of her again?"  
  
He didn't even have to ask who "she" was. "She seems to be a constant bother."   
  
Marron glared disapprovingly at him. "I don't think Pan would appreciate being called a simple 'bother'."  
  
"Yeah, she'd rather be a leech, or a mosquito at the very least." Trunks said, smiling lamely. Marron saw through the joke easily.   
  
"Why don't you go home and talk to her?"  
  
Trunks ran his hands through his short bowl cut in exasperation. "Because she's not there!"   
  
"Then go find her!" He shot her a hopeful glance before running out the door. "I don't know how you didn't end up inheriting either of your parents smarts!" She yelled down the stairs after him.  
  
  
Pan froze in her hammock, leaving her eyes closed. Soft treads became a bit clearer sounding as they crept up on her. Staying still took a lot of effort, considering the bug bites that covered her body, but she wasn't willing to give up the advantage of surprise. Anyone trying to come after her wouldn't recognize her super human strength and senses until it was too late, and they couldn't do anything about it.   
  
She felt the hammock sway was the intruder bumped against it. It was a feather light touch, but enough to set the string to vibrating against her body. Their breath floated down to her nose. It smelled like forest berries, with just a hint of rain.   
  
Just a little closer.. come on… she urged silently, waiting for the right moment. Just a little closer, and she'd be able to grab the person and send him or her hurtling over into the nearest tree.   
  
"Come on, Pan-chan. We both know you're not asleep." The familiar voice sounded quietly amused.  
  
"Ubuu!" Pan's eyes shot open, and she jumped up in surprise. "Ouch!" She knocked her head against his. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Ubuu rubbed the spot just below the widow's peak his Mohawk extended from. "I was going to check in on you, but you obviously don't need me."   
  
Pan scowled at him. "Obviously."  
  
"Don't be like that, I was just trying to help." He said. Ubuu frowned back at her. Why was she so pissed, when he was just trying to be nice?  
  
"I don't need your help or your pity thank you. You can go home and tell your mother that you did your duty." She said stiffly.   
  
"Why would I pity you? I know you can take care of yourself…"   
  
Pan cocked her head, confused. She reminded Ubuu of an ornery tiger. "You mean you don't know?"   
  
"Don't know what?" He asked warily. What a person doesn't know could kill them, he thought to himself.   
  
"Oh kami… you don't know about Trunks' accident?" For some reason, she took a sadistic delight in the way Ubuu's face paled to a cappuccino-with-a-lot-of-cream-in-it color.  
  
"Accident?"   
  
Her pleasure faded as she told him the entire story, and saw that he didn't really feel sorry for her. Not like his pity was going to help her any in the first place. And he was truly worried about Trunks.   
  
"Maybe you should pack up and go home." Ubuu said, looking up at the darkening sky.   
  
"Which home?" Pan asked bitterly. "My family's, or Trunks'?"  
  
"What's WRONG with you?" Ubuu growled at her. "You should be trying to support him, not be all angry because of the accident! It's not like it's HIS fault!"  
  
Pan blinked away her tears. "So you're implying it's MY fault?" She had been blaming herself for the accident all along, and now the man in front of her was confirming it.  
  
"No… of course not." His voice faltered.   
  
Pan shut out the pain. He wasn't even sure of trying to reassure her. "That's alright. I'll go to Trunks' house."   



	7. You're such a Fruit Loop

Trunks drifted slowly into the tree line, careful not to disturb a single branch and alert the talking couple. He barely breathed, and his eyes hazed red. Of all people for her to cheat on him with, it had to be Ubuu.   
  
His hiding place among the bushes gave him a clear view of the tears swelled in Pan's eyes. He couldn't hear anything, but he could tell from the way they were talking it was something important. And if strong Pan-chan was crying over it, it must have been life altering. She pivoted angrily and was about to walk off. Trunks didn't have time to breathe a sigh of relief before Ubuu grabbed her arm and pulled her back. He seemed to plead with her for a moment, and all of a sudden, an uncontrollable rage rushed over her face. Trunks recognized it as a saiyan's urge to go into an uncontrollable rage, something all the demi-saiyans had learned to control long ago. For a split second, it turned him on. Then she blasted Ubuu across the clearing and into the water.   
  
"Ubuu!" Trunks shot up from the bush he'd been crouched behind. Pan looked over and snarled at him, and then all the anger faded from her face and she crumpled into a heap on the ground. "Pan?"   
  
Trunks walked over and lifted Pan gently. To a normal human, she would have weighed a ton. But Trunks barely would have compared her to a feather. He leaned over and set her in the hammock, stopping for a second to lovingly push her bangs out of her eyes. She needs a haircut, he chuckled to himself. Then he walked over to the shore and searched the water for a sign of Ubuu.   
  
The dark man had floated downstream a little. Trunks walked along the shore parallel to the body, trying to decide what to do. "Ubuu!" He shouted across the water. The man didn't even twitch.   
  
Trunks considered actually getting in the water, but his finicky side answered the problem for him. He flew over to his ex-friend. "Ubuu?" He said quietly, hovering over the man. When he didn't answer, Trunks grabbed him by the arm and pulled him across the water and back to shore. Once half his body was on shore, Trunks dropped him with a thud. Ubuu groaned and sat up.   
  
"Got to love your landings, Trunks." He said sarcastically.   
  
"Shut up," Trunks turned away and walked to Pan's hammock. "Pannnnnnnn-chan," he said in a singsong voice. "Wake up sweetheart." He pushed a stray hair back behind her ear over and over again, even when the hair remained subserviently in place. Her lashes fluttered.   
  
"Trunks?" her voice was a tiny whisper, nearly lost to the soft breeze blowing off the stream. Her lids were fluttering rapidly, like she was having a bad dream. Trunks heart contracted painfully as a feeling of protectiveness washed over him. He wished he could protect her from all the big bad monsters in her dreams.   
  
Finally she stopped moving and opened her eyes. "Trunks?" The blue was lost in a sea of tears, and the droplets clung to her lashes. "What are you doing here?"   
  
She seemed so vulnerable all of a sudden. "Come on, let's go home…."  
  
"Home? Oh kami! Ubuu!" Her body lurched up into a sitting position. She barely noticed when her head collided with Trunks', she just had to look around and find her friend.  
  
The hammock seemed to aid her escape from him, tipping her out of its cradle as she ran towards Ubuu.   
  
"Ubuu? Are you okay?" She asked, kneeling next to him near the shore. The water lapped at his legs, trying to suck him back into its freezing depths. The sky was turning shades of purple, a sure sign of the coming of the night.   
  
"I'm fine…" Ubuu smiled forgivingly at her and grabbed her hand in an attempt to get up. Trunks darted forward and grabbed Pan away from Ubuu, taking away all the guy's support. "Ow!" He yelled when he plopped back into the sand.   
  
"Trunks! What the hell?" She asked. She pulled on her arm, trying to go back and help Ubuu.  
  
"Don't touch him, Pan." He glared at her, all tender feelings gone.   
  
"Trunks, Ubuu's hurt… he might have hypothermia…" She glanced from Ubuu to Trunks, confused.   
  
"He'll be fine. But if you touch him, I'll kill him." Trunks' voice was low and sullen. It sounded like he wouldn't even hesitate to follow through with his threat.   
  
"What's wrong with you? Would you just let-" Trunks didn't even pay attention to her. He just dragged her behind him by her arm like she was some sort of bad puppy. "Let me go, damn you! I didn't do anything wrong! Stop Trunks!" Her voice was beginning to squeak in panic. She'd never seen him like this.   
  
"Shut up, Pan! Just shut up!!" His voice came to her in the darkness, tense and hoarse. Then she was being lifted into the air, under Trunks' power.   
  
She would have felt safer jumping off a cliff with a feather in her hand. Her arm felt like it was going to be wrenched out of its socket by the gravity. "Trunks!" She yelled up at him. "You're hurting me damnit!"   
  
He looked down at her and his expression seemed to be considering the pros and cons of dropping her. She glared up at him defiantly, silently daring him. She could fly anyways, so it didn't matter if he dropped her.   
  
Trunks must have read her mind, because he didn't drop her. He swooped down and dumped her into a heap onto the roof of the house. His house, Pan reminded herself, trying to kneel on sore legs. Finally she gave it up as a lost cause and curled back up on the roof. Eventually she fell asleep beneath the soft fall breeze, thinking up exactly how she was going to torture Trunks in the morning. Maybe there was a large anvil somewhere in the house…  
  
Sunlight streamed through colored glass onto Pan's eyelids. Drowsily, she imagined herself sleeping on a cloud. Satin slid across her skin as she stretched. She froze as a sudden pain struck her spine. What a crick! Wait, satin?   
  
Pan's eyes shot open. Her body catapulted up into a sitting position, and she studied the room frantically. Her warrior instincts instantly sought out all the exits. Door, large windows… Large, stained glass windows. Of her house. His house. Trunks' house.   
  
  
Pan sank back into the covers in relief. Her eyes closed for an instant, before shooting open once again to study her body. She was naked! How'd she get naked? Trunks! He was the only possibility… which means he saw her naked!   
  
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Pan knew all these ludicrous thoughts going through her mind were either from shock or mortification. She couldn't decide at the moment. Mechanically, she got up, this time clutching the cover over her body like someone was actually there to see, and looked around more slowly. She spotted her clothes draped hastily over the chair, with her underwear and bra on the floor.   
  
  
Amused, Pan tried to imagine Trunks handling her lingerie. He'd probably jumped as soon as he realized he touched it, like a three year old and a hot stove. A very guilty three year old. More then likely, that's why they were on the floor..   
  
Pan shook the image out of her head. Her imagination was running wild, and doing in appropriate things while it was at it.   
  
Gingerly, she pulled clothes over her various scrapes from her skippy little landing and searched for the stairs.  
  
Ten minutes and fourteen rooms later, Pan finally made it to the dining room.   
  
She entered as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb Trunks. He was sitting there at the table, reading his paper. He probably couldn't even see her. She definitely couldn't see him.   
  
She nearly made it through the room to the kitchen door, but his voice stopped her.   
  
"Good morning."  
  
She tried to remind herself that she wanted to be cool, calm and collected. "What's so good about it?" She muttered. There. She didn't attack him.   
  
She walked through the door; somehow feeling it wasn't quite thick enough to stand between him and her. She snorted to herself and moved away from the door. A cursory glance through the fridge told her that it was stocked up completely, but not with much that was appetizing.   
  
"Just give me some hot sauce… eggs… anything…" She growled, sliding jars of jelly and wheat germ out of her way to see if anything good was in the back. "Milk! Promising…."   
  
She pulled it out and set it on the tile counter top, then began searching the cupboards. The ones she could reach, anyways. "Everyone has to have fruit loops, right…"   
  
"Cereal is on top of the fridge," Trunks' husky voice whispered in her ear. His voice was a breath of cold air compared to the warmth emanating off his body.  
  
"Oh," Pan said. She didn't know if it was in response to him or what he said.   
  
"Here," she heard the slide of cardboard on metal as he reached up and pulled a box down from the fridge. "This is good for you." He didn't even have to move to reach the box, she thought. For a minute, she hated the unfairness of it all. Being short sucks.   
  
Pan didn't even look at what she was pouring into her bowl. She just moved her hands in the right sequence and prayed that Trunks would leave, or at least move away from her. She almost wanted to lean back against his hard chest, but that would have been… a stupid gesture. And she didn't want to encourage his little fantasy after all.   
  
Bitterly, she looked down at her cereal. Her face crumpled in disgust. It was brown. She hated brown food. It meant it was healthy, which meant it tasted bad.  
  
"Ugh, get that away from me," she wrinkled her nose and pushed the bowl away with a fingertip.  
  
Trunks smirked derisively. "It won't contaminate you, you can touch it you know."   
  
Pan glared at him over her shoulder. It was the first time she realized she hadn't brushed her hair as soon as she got up.   
  
"Whatever that stuff is, I won't eat it."   
  
"What would you like then?" He asked, trying to be solicitous, even when she sounded like a spoiled brat.   
  
"Don't you have fruit loops? Or Coco puffs? Or at LEAST frosted flakes?" She asked.  
  
Trunks frowned. "I have some fruit loops left over from the last time Bra had visited. But you can't really want to…"  
  
Pan smiled at him and answered quickly, before he could lecture. "Yes! I would LOVE to eat them."  
  
Trunks reached over again and pulled down a red box with a large picture of a cartoon toucan on it. "Will these work?"  
  
Pan's eyes lit up, "You're the best Trunks." Impulsively she kissed his cheek and retreated with her food before he could do anything.   
  
By the time Trunks had recovered and came back to the kitchen, Pan was sitting in his seat, scarfing down cereal and laughing at the comics. The rest of Trunks' newspaper was scattered across the table, most likely out of order. He tried not to growl as he cleaned them up. Trunks plopped down in the seat across from her and pulled his bowl to his new seat.   
  
He tried to concentrate on reading about the latest low in the stock markets, but every time Pan would laugh or giggle, or even breathe a little loudly, he'd look at her curiously. He hadn't looked at the comics in a long time, and had almost forgotten why they were funny.   
  
He caught sight of one of the fruit loops piled in her bowl and picked it up. Amazingly, the blue was almost the exact match of her eye color.  
  
"Interesting…" He muttered, holding it up and comparing it with her eyes. It took her a moment to notice he was still alive.  
  
"What are you doing?" She asked, cocking her head to the side.   
  
  



	8. Flyboy!

"Well, your eyes are the same color as this fruit loop," Trunks said, still marveling at it.   
  
Pan snorted. "Aren't you the romantic… comparing me to a fruit loop." Actually, she thought it was kind of romantic, but she wasn't about to let him know that. Not after last night.  
  
Trunks just smirked and looked through the hole in the round cereal like it was a magnifying glass. "Hm… very interesting deduction, Watson." He said with an English accent. Pan giggled.   
  
"See there, me boy? She does have a sense of the funnies!" Groucho spoke.   
  
Pan sent him her patented dazzling smile. "I didn't know you could do impressions, Trunks."   
  
He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Well, see, you don't know everything, see…" He said around an invisible cigar.   
  
"What else can you do?" She urged.  
  
He let out a bunch of Donald Duck gibberish. When Pan giggled at him, he wrinkled his nose at her and made it sound like Donald was angry.   
  
Pan stuck her tongue out at him, playing along. "Come on, quackers… what are you made of?" She teased, pushing out of her chair. She raised her fists and bounced on her toes. Femme Rocky! She laughed to herself.   
  
Trunks offered up a Donald Duck-style catcall. Pan got into her role, and threw her head back, giving a sexy cackle. "Come and get me, flyboy."   
  
Flyboy leapt into the air and tackled Pan, causing both to fall to the ground. When she tried to push him off, he just captured her hands and forced them to her sides.   
  
"I think…" Trunks' breathing was labored, his eyes wide, searching her face, "that I got you."   
  
He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, gently increasing the pressure when she didn't fight. He had no clue what had gotten into her for the past couple of days; She was constantly avoiding him, not even willing to brush against him. Every contact made was initiated by him… for a moment, he was hurt by her seeming rejection, or possible signs of her cheating on him. Either way, she was hiding something. Trunks leaned down further, releasing her hands so he could bury his own in her silken hair. He was going to find out what she was hiding, one way or another.   
  
"Panny…" He breathed quietly, pressing against her. Pan stiffened in shock, her eyes shot open.   
  
She was NOT lying on Trunks dining room floor. It wasn't her… it was someone else. Of course it was… sensible, grown up Pan didn't do thing like kiss guys on freezing tile floors. For a moment, it felt like she was floating above the couple on the floor, watching them. Then she came back to earth. Yeah, being someone else was a good excuse to be doing this.   
  
"Trunks, get off," She extricated herself from his body, pushing at his chest to try and keep his mouth away from her. The guy was far too good with that mouth of his… she couldn't let it do its magic again.   
  
"Pan, we need to talk." The lips moved mesmerizing.   
  
Pan shook her head, breaking the spell. "Then we'll talk at the table… let me up!"   
  
Trunks smirked at her. "What, uncomfortable?" His thumb trailed across her cheek, dripping fire.   
  
Pan blushed, and her eyes moved back to his mouth. "Far from it…" She answered huskily. The lips revealed a flash of white teeth in a smile before diving back down out of sight. Pan snapped out of her daze again and put a finger in-between their lips. "How about some no, babe." She scolded.   
  
"But it's fun…" He whined at her, a smile still twitching at the corners of his mouth.   
  
"Oh, would you get off me! Big baby… you know, I doubt we could find a diaper in your size!" Pan pushed him off her again, relieved when it finally worked. Trunks sat back into a kneeling position beside her.   
  
"I think I'm grateful for that… I heard diaper rash gets worse in the summer."   
  
Pan muttered, "Smart ass," and got back up to the table. "What do we have to talk about?"   
  
"What are you hiding?" Trunks asked, straight out. No sense in beating around the bushes.   
  
Pan sent him an innocent look. "Hiding?" She searched her sleeves and patted down her pockets, appearing to search for something. "I don't think I'm hiding anything…. Maybe you see something I don't?"  
  
Trunks laughed. "Oh please, like you could hide anything in those clothes." He said, eyeing her tight shirt and pant outfit. She'd dropped the tomboyish clothing a couple years ago, and started looking more like the girls she went with school with. A formfitting shirt with some cutesy design on it (today's outfit had a cartoon version of Bee on it) and a pair of tight jeans covered her curves. One of the knees were completely worn through, offering a view of pale skin. She claimed they were easy to fight in, but Trunks thought she might have been made fun of for her normal, rather trashy outfit. "But really, stop joking around. What's the big secreat? Are you guys throwing me a surprise party?"  
  
Pan blinked. "Party?" She'd forgotten his birthday was even coming up.   
  
"Oh, don't give me that look.. I've got you figured out. Mom's planning a party, isn't she?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess you've found us out." Pan offered a weak smile. "You won't tell anyone you know, will you?" Don't tell them until I can get to them first, at least…  
  
"No, your secret's safe with me." He laughed.   
  
"Thanks." Pan sighed. Kami, I need a vacation. "I'll talk to you later, k?" Pan rushed to the front living room, searching for the door. This place was huge.. how was a person supposed to find anything??? Eventually she found it, hidden behind a red screen covered in gold embroidery. It was really very pretty….  
  
But the situation she was about to walk into wasn't going to be. She had to tell Bulma to throw a 'surprise' party.   
  
"Surprise!" she muttered to herself.   
  



	9. Saturday

"WHAT????"  
  
Pan winced when the high pitched screech pierced her ear. You'd think Bulma's dad would have created something to muffle his daughter's voice, but then, duct tape probably worked just as well…. "Trunks expects us to have a surprise party for him," she repeated.  
  
"After all that's happened, he expects me to plan a party in three days???" Bulma grimaced. "Oh, well, duh. He doesn't know what all has happened."  
  
Pan sighed, "Yeah, no kidding. I know he thought something was happening, but I didn't think he thought it had anything to do with that… " Her voice trailed off when she saw the arrested look on Bulma's face.   
  
"Did it have anything to do with the fact that you told Trunks you were married to him?"   
  
A hint of bright green glistened in Pan's dark blue eyes as she regarded Bulma. "I didn't tell him that, he came up with it on his own." Her voice was a glacier turned into sound. "I'm so glad you think I'm that much of a conniving little…." Pan didn't even finish the sentence before walking out the door and taking off. She turned Super Saiyan in mid air, studying the ground beneath her. It'd be nice to get away for a while… take a vacation, stop worrying about school… Write her speech for the graduation ceremony.   
  
What does valedictorian tell the other students anyway? Ha ha, I made higher grades then you? Pan smiled and dropped out of Super Saiyan. Yes, a vacation would be good… right after Trunks' 'surprise' party.   
  
  
Trunks leaned against the reinforced walls of the gravital gym and studied it. What other improvements could be made? He asked himself, studying it. He'd already worked his butt off changing and adding things to the design for the old machine, and any other machine he could find around the house. The dishwasher was souped up so far that the dishes weren't really washed…. They were dry cleaned. Before he'd messed with everything mechanical, he'd cleaned the entire house. Wearing an apron. It was the most humiliating way to pass the time in his life, but at least it was something to do. How was he supposed to wait for Pan like this? It wasn't like he could just sit in the living room and wait for her to show up… come to think of it, he did forget to dust the mantle in there. He trotted through a couple rooms into the living room, a giant feather duster in hand. He wiped the wood, keeping his gaze locked on the window. Eventually a loud crack informed Trunks that the paint was completely worn off, his shoes and the carpet dusted with it's bits. A huge crack was pushing through the wood. Prudently, Trunks stepped away, just as the entire shelf collapsed on itself. A single spider-like cleaning robot began attacking the mess. Trunks stomped on it. "Dangit Mom, I didn't want you to send any of those stupid things over here." One was too many, from Trunks' view. The 'stupid things' crawled all over the Capsule Corp mansion and business offices, doing odd jobs or whatever it was they were programmed for. They rarely noticed that a human might be in the way of the thing they were cleaning, or that it was a human they were TRYING to clean. Trunks remembered waking up from a nightmare one night to have one of his mother's newest models polishing him. And walking down the hall during the night was horrible… one of those things would crawl over your foot with their pointed little feet, and it'd take all your willpower not to hop and screech like a elephant seeing a mouse. The entire household got slippers for Christmas every year.  
  
Saturday… he hated Saturday. No work to be done, nothing but training and sleeping and RELAXING…. Pan wasn't even there to plan his day around. His free time was based around her. Trunks was pretty sure it involved whatever happened with Ubuu yesterday, and why everyone was acting so weird. And he meant to talk to Pan about it today. But then he'd blurted out all that crud about a surprise party. Yeah… right… He was too old for a party! But once mentioned, he'd still have to go through with it, wouldn't he? Trunks shrugged. He'd slack off after the party.   



	10. Project: Plan the 'suprise'

Bra hurried across the room to her mother, rolls of blue crepe paper filling her arms and trailing after her shoes like dogs on a leash. Bulma orchestrated the room full of robots like a modern maestro. Her art, interior design. Her only movement was her flowing blue hair and her fluttering hands. "Over there," the hands explained, "and up there." Bulma herself didn't say a word. Bra instantly began draping the paper around the corners and ceiling. A robot bleeped enquiringly. Bulma's hands shooed it on to its destination. Pan shifted her feet out of the other corner of the doorway so the 'stupid thing' would stop beeping indignantly at her for being in its way. Something about lower humans (?!) taking up entire doorways. Pan glared at the metal monster before shifting back into her comfortable position, leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed, to study the orchestrated chaos. Another robot that looked vaguely like a silver teddy bear dumped its armload of party favors at her feet. "What?" she asked it, cocking her head to the side. The teddy bear mimicked her. Pan giggled quietly, so as not to disturb the quiet beeping of the room. Her giggle abruptly ended when the bear was startled enough to wheel RIGHT OVER HER BIG TOE. Pan grabbed her foot and leaned even harder in the doorway. Her yelp was barely contained behind clenched teeth. Of course, Bulma noticed EVERYTHING that went on in her room. Her hands were covering her mouth, trying to contain the laughter. Bra's face was buried in the pile of crepe paper, her hair nearly blending in with it to camouflage her. Pan turned bright red and lowered her foot back to the ground. Calmly… calmly… don't want to make a fool of yourself…. "Anything I can do to help?" Bra pulled her head out of the paper, revealing a bright red face. "Unless you can cook, which we all know you can't, then no."  
  
"The caterer bailed on us," Bulma explained, slightly apologetic for her daughters bad manners.   
  
Pan blushed. It was common knowledge that her last cooking lesson had been considered a natural disaster, and her teacher pronounced that Pan shouldn't have access to a lighter, much less a stove. Pan was still doling out punishment for that remark; Trunks was permanently scarred from all the teasing he got from his family and friend about the pink frilly apron he liked to wear around the kitchen. "Maybe Grandma would cook for you?"  
  
"Can Chichi pull together a banquet in…" Bulma checked her watch, "17 hours?"   
  
Pan scoffed. "If she can make a meal for four saiyans in 20 minutes flat, then she can definitely cook a few things for a party."  
  
Bulma's hands set to swaying again, and another robot crossed an item off the list on a dry erase board on the wall. "Why does this have to be a surprise party? Since Trunks already knows, and we've only had so long to plan it….." Bra whined while she hung up decorations.   
  
Pan rolled her eyes and tuned her best friend out. Sometimes a person could only listen to so much.   
  
A robot handed Pan a phone and she dialed her grandmother's number.   
  
"Hello? Grandma? We're wondering if you could cook for Trunks' part…"  
  
"PARTY????" Pan held the phone at arm length to protect her eardrums from Chichi's ecstatic yelling. "OF COURSE I'll COOK."  
  
Pan pulled a puppy face and tried to hand the phone to Bulma. "Please? I can't take any more yelling today…."   
  
Bulma pushed the phone away, "No way, jose."   
  
"Bra?"   
  
"Not on your life."   
  
"Damn."  
  
Chichi continued yelling into phone. Pan just hung up and handed the phone to a robot. "She won't notice that there's no one else on the line for at least five minutes." Pan crossed her fingers.   
  
"So…." Bulma sent a slanty look at Pan over her waving hands, "What's going on with you and Trunks? Am I going to hear wedding bells and the pitter patter of little feet soon?"  
  
Pan turned bright red, and the memory of the cold hard tile floor and Trunks' warm, solid body popped into her head. "According to Trunks, there's already been a wedding." She muttered, bowing her face to hide behind her thick curtain of long black hair.   
  
Bra snorted and turned back to her crepe paper webs. "Tell us something we don't know," she grumbled.   
  
"Well, if you're so interested, why don't you ask Trunks? He's the one who's REALLY having this relationship…."   
  
The two women rolled their eyes simultaneously. "Don't sound so bitter." They glanced at each other, surprised. "Well, that was interesting…"   
  
"Ah!!!"  
  
Pan shook her head and retreated before the mother and daughter team revealed that they were long lost twins or something to that effect. Genetics should only go so far. …   
  
"Umph!" Pan rubbed her forehead took a moment to notice that the carpet was supposed to be softer.   
  
"Watch where you're going, woman." How hard did I HIT my head? Brick walls aren't supposed to talk…  
  
"O, hello Vegeta." Pan looked up at the 'wall' she ran into. He smirked down at her from under a brooding widows peak.  
  
"Hello, woman." He uncrossed one of his arms and silently offered her a hand up.   
  
Pan took it immediately; after all, she wasn't one to pass up such a rare opportunity, especially not with her 'father-in-law'. Pan felt a little less at ease once she was standing up. There was very little of the soldier-like comadrie left in Vegeta's expression. Rather, he seemed to be pondering something pretty hard. If he was anyone else, Pan would have offered a penny for his thoughts, but this was VEGETA. "Um… yeah. Can I go now?"   
  
Vegeta waved his hand in dismissal, "Yes, you're dismissed."   
  
After Pan left, she had to stop and go back over the entire scenario. "Strange family…."  
  
The air car parked smoothly on the cement drive. Pan slipped off the heavy leather sandals that were currently in style, and stepped out into the cold, slightly damp grass. She sank down and just looked at the house, thinking about all the lies and evasion tactics she'd used since 'the accident'.   
  
"Please," She begged whoever was listening, "don't let it be like this forever." 


	11. The Party

"I'm glad you're here," Pan whispered to Piccolo, squeezing his huge shoulder gently and kissing him on the cheek.   
  
Piccolo shrugged, more to release his sensitive skin from the annoying fabric of the rented tuxedo then anything else. "Not like I have anything better to do with my time." He grumbled. "You and your dad should come up with some more students for me to teach, I think I might be getting soft in my old age." Piccolo smirked down at Pan, revealing a small set of teeth, complete with menacing fangs.   
  
"Why, if I don't know better, I think you were trying to make a joke," Pan smirked back. He hadn't aged a bit since Pan had known him, and she'd known him her entire life. Once, Piccolo had tried to explain that if humans had chloroplasts and vacuoles within their cells, they'd live a lot longer too, but everyone just gave him and weird look and walked off. His green skin was tougher then even the saiyan's, with better regenerative properties. At one time Bulma had even been interested in working with his genetics, talking about combining them with a saiyan's to create 'the ultimate warrior'. Everyone laughed.   
  
Pan swirled the red liquid around in her glass moodily, keeping her hands busy as she watched the party progress. Guests from all over the continent came to present their daughters to the 'eligible' bachelor, and to offer their congratulations on both his birthday and surviving his accident.   
  
"Dreadful, just dreadful," she heard one pompous fat businessman tell Trunks, "the people who get driver licenses."   
  
"God, I hate my enhanced hearing," she muttered, taking an unladylike swig of her wine. Piccolo sent her a worried frown.   
  
"Is that your sixth glass?" He asked quietly, so no one else could hear.   
  
"So what if it is? My metabolism burns it up too quick to matter," she practically snarled at him.   
  
"Not THAT fast…." Piccolo muttered. He quickly walked away, looking for some company in a better mood.   
  
Pan sent his back a false smile over her glass, "Now you know how everyone else feels around you, cold bastard."   
  
"May I take your glass?" A waiter asked politely, holding the tray out to her.   
  
She smiled and put the empty glass on the tray with an exaggerated wave of her hand before grabbing another. "Thank you."   
Another swig of the wine didn't make her feel any better. Trunks had completely ignored her for the entire party… and after their encounter on the kitchen floor, she was allowed to expect one dance, right?   
  
"You know, you should really savor this vintage…. A 1412 shouldn't go to waste on those lovely lips," A young man slid close beside her, his arm nearly around her shoulders. Pan shrugged and took a step away, nearly stumbling. Guess Piccolo was right about my metabolism, she thought to herself.   
  
He grabbed her arm, pulling her upright and laughing. "My my, I didn't think a line like that would make you fall for me already," He smiled charmingly.   
  
Pan gave him a small smile and stood up shakily. "What's your name, flyboy?"  
  
Neither of them noticed Trunks' ear perk up.   
  
"I'm wounded, milady. You don't remember me? I'll tell you my profession… I drive an ambulance."   
  
"Oh my god!" She yelped in surprise and jumped to hug him. In her high heels and rather drunken state, she more or less ended up hugging him about the waist, and at eye level with his belt. "Um…. Nice to meet you."   
  
"Nice to truly meet you too, Miss." He said politely, "but I think your boyfriend is going to tear my head off if you hang on me like this for much longer."   
  
Pan looked over and Trunks and blushed. He was glaring at her as well as he could while still listening to the conversation. Abruptly, Pan let go of the ambulance driver and sank the rest of the way to the thick carpet, grateful for the shadowy corner. The skirt of the formal dress flared, tangling with her legs and getting stuck underneath her.   
  
"Damnit," she muttered, trying to pull it free. "I'm sorry," she looked back up at the young man, whose feet were starting to shift nervously, "I still can't remember your name."  
  
"All my friends call me Ray," he said, sinking to the floor next to her. "But you can call me whatever you want."  
  
Pan laughed, realizing that his flirtatious manner was simply what he did. If she was 300 pounds and covered in zits, he'd probably say the same things. "I think Ray'll do me fine." She blinked, and suddenly there was a double image. "What do I call the other one?"  
  
Ray giggled and chuckled so hard that he was starting to bring a lot of attention to that corner of the room. "Damn, girl, you really ARE sloshed."  
  
"Amnt…" she slurred, although she didn't really seem to hear it. She was blinking continuously, trying to get the image right again. "I tink tis is bad…."   
  
"Yeah, babe, it is."   
  
"Sir?" Another waiter in a penguin suit stopped off, "Does your lady friend need help?"   
  
"O, I'm sure I can take care of it," he smiled and stooped over to pick pan up. She just watched his face go from red to almost purple before his back finally gave out and he sank back to the floor in defeat. "You're a lot heavier then you look."  
  
"Gee, thanks," Her voice was filled with sarcasm, but was a little less slurred. "Anything you'd like to add to that? Maybe you could call me old… that would just tip the scale."   
  
Ray laughed and shook his head at her. "You're quite possibly the most changeable female I've ever had the pleasure to meet. Sure you don't have quicksilver in your blood?"   
  
Trunks forced his mind back to the conversation with the president of one of the competing companies. If he'd known that this was a business gathering, he would have made himself scarce. He should have known better when his mother told him to come formally; she never forced Vegeta into a tux unless it was important. No one seemed to remember that he was married, either. The man he was talking to now, he couldn't bring himself to remember his name, was trying to force his ugly, nasal voiced daughter on Trunks. Obviously the girl was just as happy about it as Trunks was; She wore a scowl that made her look like an apple that had been in the sun too long.  
  
Pan didn't seem to remember that they were married either. She had been sitting in the same corner since the party started, drinking wine. Trunks had lost count how many glasses she'd had after the fourth one, but he was pretty sure she would have to leave soon. And then she started talking to that…WORM. Trunks winced to himself. He was so mad he couldn't even think of a good insult. And even worse, they were having a conversation. He was thinking about going over there and asking Pan to dance, drunk or not, when his guest pushed Lady Apple-Face at him. "Prissy would just love to dance with you."   
  
The look on Prissy's face told Trunks that she'd end up stomping on his toes the entire time for punishment, but he shrugged. Maybe dancing with her would be a better idea then dancing with Pan. "Would you like to dance, Prissy?" He held out his hand to her and offered the most charming smile he could.   
  
"Of course, Briefs-san."   
  
The dance was formal American waltz that felt too romantic for the situation. He looked longingly over his shoulder at Pan, when Prissy decided right then to dig her stiletto heel into his toe. He stung, but not for long. She was only human. He looked back at the girl and tried to strike up a conversation.   
  
"What's your real name, Prissy?"  
  
"Priscilla, but you'd think that a genius like you would be able to guess that."   
  
Trunks winced, but decided not to defend himself. He'd just try to make sure she didn't bruise his toes too badly, and get through this one dance.   
  
Prissy, had finally let up a little on her stomping when Pan walked up. "Mind if I borrow him for a minute?"   
  
"Of course." Prissy nodded and walked back her red-faced father.   
  
"What happened to Ray?" Trunks gritted out.   
  
Pan waved off his tone. "I told him that I needed to save you from Scrunch-face."   
  
He bit his lip to keep from laughing at her. Then she stumbled and landed on his foot, and he had to bite harder to keep from yelping in pain. "Steel toe?" He asked, looking down at her feet. They were tiny for the amount of damage she'd inflicted.   
  
Pan sent him a smirk, a feminine fang glinting at him, "Worse, I think. Your mother made them for me." Her hand tightened on his shoulder, crumpling the fine fabric.   
  
"Its no wonder they don't have rockets in them," he muttered, giving a mock groan.   
  
Pan laughed so hard she nearly fell over. "I think they just might."   
  
The song ended, but she was still in his arms, eyes laughing up at him. Her foot was firmly planted on his, and the throbbing sensation was the only reason he wasn't moving. The throbbing reminded him that this was why he loved her… because she didn't hurt him on purpose, she never would. And her drunkenness was so cute. "You want me to take you home, Pan?"  
  
The laughter faded from her eyes a little bit, "Home?" The memory of her conversation with Ubuu clouded her mind. "Yeah, I guess… I gotta say goodbye to Ray first." Trunks' mouth turned down at the mention of her new friend, but Pan ignored it. Damn his possessiveness, she thought bitterly. She grabbed his hand and wobbled back over to Ray, who was holding her half-empty wine glass in the dark corner.   
  
"Hey darling," He said, smiling that same charming smile at her, "looks like you got a hold of him." He handed her back her glass.   
  
"Yeah… we're going to go home… will I see you again?" Pan sat down next to him, leaving Trunks feeling foolish and unaccepted, like a child.   
  
"Maybe," Ray said, his smile fading as he sent a wary glance at Trunks. Even as a human, Ray could feel the strength emanating from the supposed pencil pusher. "We'll see what fate has in store." He said enigmatically.   
  
Pan smiled back and stood up shakily. "Good-bye Ray."  
  
He nodded back as Trunks led her away by the hand. He walked up to his mother and made a few excuses to the guests surrounding her, ignoring the temptation to humiliate Pan and tell everyone she was drunk.   
  
The car was suffocating between her grogginess, and his anger. And the gentle swaying, which normally was similar to a hammock, felt more like a ship at sea. She was sick, and tired, and annoyed that he was angry with her. What right? She asked herself. Her dress didn't seem to help matters either. The straps hung off her shoulders, making her feel inexplicably vulnerable, and yards of fabric that made up the skirt had become heavy. The shoes pinched, and made her wobble. How many glasses of wine was that? She looked down at her crossed arms and noticed she was still holding the crystal wine glass in her hand, partially full of some intoxicating red liquid that she didn't really care for anymore. She dipped her index finger in the wine delicately into the wine and traced the lip of the glass with it. A pleasant ringing sound, similar to glass chimes, but constant rather then the occasional ding began filling the car. It made her a little sleepy, reminiscent. She rested her head against the seat and concentrat  
ed on the memory. Where…? Ah, there it was. Another party, one she and Bra had been too young to participate in. They had to go to bed early, but Trunks and Goten had snuck upstairs to put them to sleep. Trunks had snuck up some alcohol, some bitter white wine that neither of the girls had liked. To put them to sleep, he'd done the same thing Pan was doing, making the glass ring with a careful splendor.   
  
"Stop that," Trunks growled, grabbing the glass to stop the vibrations. The noise was more annoying then soothing, but mostly, he wanted her to sit still, suffer the same punishment he was. Without anything to keep his hands or his mind busy, he was restless. Air cars were too simple to drive, there weren't enough buttons to mess with anymore.   
  
Pan glared at him, but stopped playing with the glass. Why was she taking that with her anyways? He cleared his throat as she continued to glare at him through bleary dark blue eyes. His anger was wearing thin under her scrutiny, realizing that she should be the one angry with him. He was the one blaming her for nothing, after all. "Pan," he reached for her hand, trying to make her understand with his touch…  
  
She drew away, the slender, strong fingers curling into a fist on her lap. 


	12. Kitty Kat

Pan squeaked as the bones in the back of her neck popped. "Ow, damn," she cursed, stretching a little more. She glanced around the room, a smile lighting her face when she saw the gorgeous blue and purple stained window. For a guy, Trunks had good taste in design. The room was homey, and done in calming blues and greens, with splashes of purple. Most of the furniture was made out of a dark, warm wood, including the huge canopied bed that dominated the room. It was made to laze about in, Pan thought to herself before lying back onto the suede and crushed velvet pillows. She turned her head, ready to doze off again and get rid of the nagging hangover, when her eye fell on the only bright object in the room. Pan groaned and covered her eyes.   
  
"Damn dress." The only brightly colored thing in the room stood out like a sore thumb. It brought all the bad memories of last night rushing back, and the headache came on full force. They hadn't argued last night, but Trunks got the idea that he wasn't welcome when he discovered the bedroom door locked and a pile of blankets sitting outside it. Pan, of course, was thwarted when she remembered that she couldn't get out of the dress without some kind of help. She struggled with the zipper for a full five minutes before her frustrated shrieks brought Trunks to the door.   
  
"Pan, are you alright?"   
  
"No, I'm not alright! I can't get out of this straightjacket your mother has the nerve to call a dress!"   
  
She unlocked the door, her make-up smeared and her hair half framing her face. Trunks gave her a congenial smile and unzipped her dress as impersonally as her could. He almost followed her back into the room, but the hardwood door was slammed in his face. "You're not getting any special treatment just for helping me!" Pan yelled back over her shoulder as she climbed out of the dress.   
  
He slammed his fist so hard into the door that a crack traveled from the knob to halfway across the door. "Well, there's gratitude for you." He muttered, backing back down the corridor and into a guestroom.   
  
Now the door was unlocked, the dress hanging up, and the night was over. But she'd still have to deal with him this morning. Pan groaned and played with the picture frame on the bedside table. Her parents smiled back, as serene as ever, but her dad's eye seemed to hold a malicious I-told-you-so glint. She pulled the frame down to cover up her parents, determined to make her decisions on her own. "I'm an adult now." She told herself, "I can't always depend on my parents."   
  
But she was beginning to think she couldn't even depend on herself. She'd gotten illegally drunk last night, and then that… crap, with Ray. Was she flirting with him? The memory was too fuzzy to tell. Was it safe to take a vacation, all by herself? Maybe she was becoming a danger to herself. Pan had almost talked herself out of leaving when Trunks knocked on the door.   
  
"Pan? Can I come in?"   
  
"Yeah, the doors open."   
  
Trunks poked his head in, like he expected something to be thrown at him. "I brought you a present." He stepped the rest of the way in and Pan noticed he was cradling a small fluff of fur.   
  
Trunks plopped the baby onto her lap and sat on the bed next to her. "I found her out by the woods behind the house… isn't she cute? "   
  
A pointed ear perked up out of the fur and scanned the room. Pan cocked her head, a small smile on her lips as she watched a little pink nose pop up and twitch, sniffing the room for an idea of what was going on. She put a hand in front of the nose and a small, clawed paw swiped at her, pouncing and holding a finger down so that the creature could sniff it some more.   
  
"Ow! What the heck is she?"   
  
"No idea, really… I found her in the woods out back… she must have been dropped off one of the transports that run along there. I just had them blocked off a couple hours ago."  
  
"Hours? How long did I sleep?" Pan asked, waving her hand and giggling as the little monster chased it. "What did I miss?"   
  
"Well, its almost one now… I heard some rumbling around nine that would have woke the dead. Went out to see what it was, and there were a bunch of trucks riding across my back yard. Talk about a surprise, ne?"   
  
"Yeah, well, she's most certainly surprising. So if you don't know what she is, why didn't you turn her into the Humane society, or even wildlife. She looks like some sort of wild cat."   
  
"Well," Trunks' eyebrows drew together and he looked down at his fidgeting hands, "I thought you might want to keep her… maybe she'll keep you home more often."   
  
The headache came roaring back. "Trunks…" She decided to avoid that last comment, "We can't keep her… it'll hurt her more than anything else. Plus, its illegal." She waved her fingers in front of the kitten's nose and its butt wiggled into the air in preparation to pounce.   
  
"Oh, since when have we ever cared about the law anyways?"   
  
Pan glared at him. "We're not above the law Trunks, no matter how powerful we are. Ouch!" A claw caught Pan's finger. She stuck the small cut in her mouth and grabbed Trunks' tie from beside the bed so the cat could play with it instead of injuring her.   
  
"Hey! That's mine!"   
  
"Well, I wouldn't have given it to her if you didn't leave your clothes lying around."   
  
He gave her a rebellious scowl and watched the cat chase the silky bit of fabric around. "Well, it wasn't one of my favorites anyways." His face softened into a small smile as he watched Pan and her newest pet play. "You haven't gotten to play with Bee lately…. Maybe it'll be good for you to have a pet."   
  
Pan shrugged. "Grandpa is getting too old to drag that dog around just to visit his granddaughter…. Besides, Satan is supposed to be in retirement. And she's not a pet! She's a wild animal who needs to go back where she belongs!"   
  
She sounded more like she was trying to convince herself, and Trunks knew she was losing the battle. "Alright."   
  
'Are you ill?' her glance seemed to say at his calm acceptance. Her wary expression hurt his feelings a little bit, but he'd seen it often enough in their childhood when she was coming upon one of the practical jokes/traps that Goten and him would occasionally set. She always ended up falling into them anyway, no matter her caution.   
  
Her eyes lit up with an idea, and Trunks knew this was one trap she wasn't going to fall into. "I'm going to take her on a vacation with me."  
  
"WHAT?!" He didn't bring Pan the cat so that she could LEAVE. She was supposed to stay. With him. And if he needed the cat to make her do that, so be it.   
  
"I'm going to go camping… somewhere. It's been a while since I've spent some time just training and being by myself… I need to write…" Pan stopped. If they were married, then maybe she'd already graduated and given her speech, and that'd give her away. Then Trunks' memory would be lost forever, and it'd be all her fault. And she'd be stuck in this charade.   
  
"Write? You can write here." Trunks had the sexiest frustrated look on his face.   
  
Pan looked away from him in an attempt to hide her drool. She shrugged it off, "Its not like its written in stone, flyboy… it was just an idea. But its something I'd like to do. Until I make a decision though," Pan held the kitten up above her head and smiled as it swiped half heartedly at her nose, "She'll stay with us." 


	13. Interactive

The cat tumbled down the stairs after Pan, her plan to get the half tied shoelaces thwarted by the floor suddenly falling out from under her.   
  
"MROW!" She complained as she landed chin down on the landing. Her butt sat on top of her head, and her tail hung over one eye mischievously, like a pirate hat.   
  
"Clumsy kitty," Pan laughed, turning around and picked the kitten up. "You should watch where you put your feet." A gentle scratch behind one of the cat's ears earned a grateful look, and the animal settled into her arms and started to purr loudly.   
  
"It sounds like a malfunctioning engine." Vegeta said gruffly from the foot of the stairs.   
  
Pan jumped, startling the cat from her arms back to the floor. "Where'd you come from?" Pan offered him a shaky grin.  
  
He shrugged his broad shoulders, not bothering to remove his arms from their common position across his chest. He shyly avoided her eyes, which instantly made Pan suspicious. "I thought you'd like to come train with me… but I see you're busy."  
  
Pan smiled. Emotion of any kind made Vegeta a little uneasy with himself. He must have missed her. "I'd love to, Veggibutt."   
  
Vegeta sent her an imperious glare. "I refuse to answer to that."   
  
"You already did."  
  
Hmph.  
  
"Vegeta, where are you going?" Pan demanded when Vegeta stood on the lawn, ready to take off for the sky.   
  
"To the gravity room?"   
  
"Let's spar out in the woods… I came up with an idea for a training exercise."  
  
Her teacher blurted out, "Really?" Pan was sure she'd never seen Vegeta's eyes bulge that wide in suprise.   
  
"Yeah… come on, this property has some awesome forestry." Pan led the smaller man to the back yard and into the tree line, carting the cat in her arms.   
  
Vegeta eyed the greenery with some trepidation. "It won't be so 'awesome' after five minutes of sparring."  
  
Pan smiled and looked around. "Sure it will… the entire point of the exercise is to make sure nothing but your opponent gets hurt. Every time you strike a tree or the earth, you gain a point. Whoever has the least points at the end wins."   
  
"Um… I don't suppose I can fight above the canopy," Vegeta said ruefully, practically bent over backward trying to look past the tall trees to the sky. Pan shrugged.   
  
"All's fair, there's only the one rule." The cat mewed when she set her at the base of the tree and batted at her hand as she pulled it away, begging not to be abandoned. Pan ignored the cat and widened her feet into a fighting stance. "So bring it on Veggibutt."  
  
"ARGH!" He roared, swooping down from behind to land a punch on her crown, but it was no longer there, and his arm simply was buried in the ground.  
  
"One point for VEGGIBUTT," Pan giggled from somewhere above him.   
  
"I refuse to answer to that," he muttered, searching the shadows for the dark-haired female.   
  
A hard blow sent him flying between a pair of trees, missing them completely. "You already did."   
  
Vegeta glared up at the canopy from his position among the moss. "Rotten kid."  
  
Pan perched on a branch above his head, smiling down at him like a mischievous wood sprite. "Rotten adult. So what do you think I should name the cat?"  
  
"Tiger."  
  
Pan's nose drew up in distaste. "Are you kidding? The Prince of Saiyans coming up with a name so undignified and worst of all UNORIGINAL?"   
  
"Well, brat, you come up with one then."   
  
Pan pouted and ducked his kick, landing one of her own to his knee. "But that's why I asked you… I have no idea what would suit her."  
  
  
Hey, I decided to get a little interactive because I couldn't think up a name for the cat. Write in your review any name you think would be suitable, so I can continue onto the next chapter… I'm hoping to move on with the story a little bit in the next one. 


	14. End

Pan and Vegeta sat on a branch high above the ground, surveying the acres of trees that stretched before them. The wild cat curled in Pan's lap, purring under her hand. Her gaze shifted to the vulnerable little baby in her lap.   
"What should we name her?" she asked, not looking away from the cat, "we never did decide."   
"Well, I was a little too busy at our latest training…. Adventure," Vegeta said gruffy, glancing at Pan out of the corner of his eye, "I'd be better at it if I could control my ki blasts once they left my hands."   
"I'm sure the trees would appreciate it too," Pan laughed to herself, careful not to jar the kitten.   
"You're really glad Trunks gave you that…. Aren't you?" For once, Vegeta seemed a little unsure of himself.   
"Uh huh," Pan murmured, "its nice to have something to care for, that can offer affection back."   
"Name it Punk," Vegeta said in a flash of inspiration, "a combination of your names, so that you can be together for as long as that flea-ridden ankle biter lives."  
Pan cocked her eyebrow at Vegeta and laughed. "Yeah, that was really convincing. Who put that idea in your head? About Trunks and me?"   
"No one," Vegeta said, putting on a haughty face, "I just think Punk really suits the situation."  
"Plus it matches her personality," Pan smiled, "and Bulma has been bugging you about encouraging Trunks to have grandchildren, huh?"  
Vegeta looked a little sheepish under his stotic mask. "Yes."   
Pan laughed despairingly to herself. "Tell Bulma not to worry…. She might end up with them after all."  
"You don't sound happy about it."   
"I'm not…. Not really." Vegeta cocked an eyebrow at her. "Well, I wouldn't mind…." She blushed when she remembered she was talking to Trunks' father. "I just don't think I'm ready for all of… that… and he's forcing me into it."   
"Trunks doesn't have to force a female into anything." Vegeta said, an insulted tinge to his voice.   
"Not intentionally." Pan sighed and trailed her fingers through Punk's fur. "Punks a good name."   
"I guess," Vegeta said, glaring at the kitten.   
  
Pan crawled into the make-shift tent she threw up in Trunks' backyard. The kitten, exhausted from chasing the shadows of the flying saiyans, immedietly curled up inside the sleeping bag.   
"Guess she'll keep my feet warm," Pan sighed to herself, stripping slowly. Bruises covered her upper body, and a few burns scattered across her shoulders and thighs. Although she healed fast enough that the injuries wouldn't be a problem in the morning, they were still painful and annoying.   
"Wonder if I should take a bath?" Punk just wiggled inside the sleeping bag and let loose a tiny snore, so Pan took that as a neutral vote. "Might as well, I guess."   
The stream flowed across all ten acres of Trunks' backyard. Pan discovered her campsite while she wandered the property, getting the feel of the land. It was gorgeous, trees lining the water with a shallow strip near the beach that dropped to a watery cave. When Pan finally got away from Trunks' attention, it was always too late to explore inside the deep cavern, too dangerous to dive into an unknown depth to discover anything. So she just used it as a bathing hole and left the discovering for another day. "I'll have plenty of time to look around in the morning… I've got an entire vacation to do whatever I want with."   
Humming a rock song softly to herself, Pan washed her hair, letting the water rinse the pine needles and multiple aches out of her body. She purred softly and dunked herself under the slightly chilly water, but when she came back up something different was in the air. After a surprised pause in the humming, she continued to act normal, but her senses were tuned into the world. Punk? She thought. But no, it was bigger then the 'ankle-biter'. A sudden crunch at the water's edge made pan gasp and turn around.   
"Hello?" She asked, letting her eyes adjust to the soft moonlight. "O, geez Trunks. You scared me."   
He sat on the beach, legs curled against his chest while his chin rested on his knees. "Sorry," he said sullenly. Pan couldn't tell, but she was pretty sure he was glaring at her. "You disappeared. Again."  
"I went to go train with your father and decided to spend the night out under the stars." Or a few nights. Her attempt at nonchalance just seemed to make him angrier.   
"What's going on? Tell me Pan!" Suddenly, Trunks was in the water with her, gripping her naked arms hard enough to bruise. "I don't understand! What's wrong with you? Is it me?"   
"You're hurting me!" Pan snarled, pushing at his chest. "Quit it!"   
He put his face right in her, teeth bared in a menacing smile, "The way you've been hurting me? See how you like it, Pan." He pressed against her hard, biting her lip enough to cause blood to bead in between his. Her skin chafed against his jeans, made even more rough by the water. His tounge chased her blood across his teeth and he smiled briefly before kissing her again, gently this time. Her eyes closed slowly as she sank into the bitter touch, letting her body do the talking. His hands settled at her waist, kneading the skin gently as he rubbed his jeans against her hips.   
"You want it, I know… so why push me away?" He asked, trailing his hand over her thigh, "Tell me whats happening, and I'll give you what you want."   
She shuddered and pushed away from him, feeling betrayed by her own body. "Damn it," she muttered, mind racing. Slowly she walked back up the bank, not realizing that Trunks was watching her rise out of the water, the moonlight glimmering across her body like a sea nymph coming to tempt him to drown. He ached to drown.   
"Aren't you coming?" She turned to look at him over her shoulder, the lava hot lust that had churned through her changed into a chilly glare.   
"Yeah." His voice was rough.   
Pan pulled the towel off a nearby tree and wrapped herself in it, to give at least a semblence of modesty. Trunks knew her for her whole life, he'd seen her naked, gave her baths. But now they were adults and had to be mature about bathing. All Pan wanted to do what peel off his soaking wet muscle shirt.   
She motioned him into her tent and sat down on the sleeping bag.   
A loud yowl made her shift over. "Sorry Punk!" The cat came out of the bag at full speed, ran across the walls with claws ripping at the ready, and dashed out the door just as Trunks came in.   
"Will she come back?" He asked, stepping back before the claws got him across the face.   
"When she's hungry." Pan shrugged. "I have to tell you something."   
"I don't know if I want to hear it."   
Pan sighed. "Its not what you're afraid of."  
"Well what then?"  
"Wellyoudontrememberbutyougothitbyacarandyoulostyourmemoryandwerenotreallymarried."  
"Say the last bit again?"  
"You lost your memory?"  
"We're not really married." His shoulder drooped a little.   
"We're really not." Pan said, looking at him with big puppy eyes. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you earlier, but…. the doctor said you were more likely to regain your memory if we played along."  
"I don't remember any of this. I don't…. this is like a bad dream." Trunks leaned his eyes on his palms and rubbed his forehead. "Everything I know… why are you doing this to me?"   
Pan blinked. "Trunks, I'm still in high school. I'm graduating in a few days. I don't want to be married."   
"Not to me, right?"  
"Well, not to anybody."  
"What about Ubuu?"  
"What about him?"  
"You're in love with him."  
"I'm mad at him right now…. Not in love with anybody." Pan watched Punk slink back into the tent and curl up in Trunks' lap.   
Trunks absently petted the cat, "You're not in love with anybody? Why not try and work it out with me?"   
"I'm in high school."  
"So? You're 18, you're legal enough. You'll be 19 in a few weeks… even more legal. Do you hate me that much that you don't want to make it work?"   
"I don't hate you, I care about you… I just don't know."   
Trunks put the cat aside and crawled to her on his hands and knee. "Please?" his eyes widened as he looked her straight on, then he whispered in her ear, "If it doesn't work, I'll try to let you go."   
Pan bit her lip and concentrated, weighing her options in her mind. Why not just try? "Ok, we can try."   
Trunks hugged her hard enough to send her flying against the ground again, and Punk let loose another yowl as he was squashed between the weight of two saiyans and the hard ground.   
"Sorry Punk!!!" Pan laughed. 


End file.
